


Five Times Phil Coulson Needed a Helping Hand

by AslansCompass



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AslansCompass/pseuds/AslansCompass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And one time he managed brilliantly.<br/>Even an experienced Shield agent can't always manage everything on his own.  Phil Coulson may have a reputation for managing things with one hand tied behind his back, but he also knows when to bring in someone else. Spoilers for the season two AOS finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Phil Coulson Needed a Helping Hand

He had really, really hoped this was one of Stark's toys. Sure, that would mean red tape and subpoenas and pointless meetings for months, but it's still preferable to the alternative.  Just because the suit's energy signature matched the hammer didn't mean they had the same origins....who was he trying to fool? Backup's not going to make it in time.

At least, not SHIELD's backup. Half-a-dozen people dressed like a Renaissance Faire troope  aren't his normal team, but he'd take it.  

And then the giant hammer that started all this mess flew into 'Donald's' hands.  

There wasn't much left afterwards.

* * *

 "Sir, was there something you wanted to discuss?" Fitz asked.

"Actually, I was hoping you could show me how to work the table." Coulson tapped the edge. "It wasn't exactly an elective when I was at the Academy.  Ward and I were trying to get it to work during the last mission, but I couldn't even turn it on."

"Oh, that's easy." Fitz waved his project to the side, leaving only vague blue light. "There's a panel right here, at the corner, that turns it on or off.  There's other modes, but those respond to voice commands. Really, this is cutting-edge technology. Sure, there's some similar products on the general market, but the resolution, the versatility,  the ability to translate data into different forms or models--"

"Fitz, I just want to know how to grab a picture and zoom in on it. In English, please," he added.  

* * *

 "Well, that's new." As far as witty comments go, not likely to win any awards.  Not that Coulson had been planning to engage in a battle of wits; it wouldn't be fair to someone who'd gone so far off the deep end.

He crawled towards the gun, which had slide between two boots.

Boots?...but...

"Sir?"

"You don't have to call me sir, Coulson. Look at me, I'm dressed like I live under a bridge." 

True, the sunglasses-and-leather look doesn't fit his polished, professional image, but  _what are you doing here?_ Also, that whole Project Tahiti thing--

"And I owe you that. But right now, we owe Garrett a punch in the teeth, wouldn't you say This...?" Fury pulled out the Destroyer gun.  "Packs a pretty good punch."

That's more than enough backup. "I know what it does."

* * *

  Socks were easy.  Shirts? The most difficult part was the buttons. Pants were tricky, but once they're on, nobody coule tell. But those  _ties_ \--he used to be able to knot one in under a minute.  It completed the professional look--bow ties aren't cool, no matter what Fitz says about Doctor Who.  Besides, they'd be just as hard to tie.  Maybe harder, since it's right under the neck with no slack.

Koening knocked on the door. "Everyone is waiting for you."

"I know, it's just--why don't you come in? I could use some help."

"Having some trouble choosing a tie?  Just don't wear plaid with polka dots, that's what my mother used to say." 

* * *

 So much for using Bambino again. He'd might as well sign it over to Fitz now.  It was a shame. There were some situations that could only be improved by a reverse-engineered alien gun, even if some people (okay, mainly Lance)  would make jokes about compensating for something.  Handguns were still an option, at least.  As for long-range fights, well...actually, they hadn't been involved in too many of those recently.   Seemed everybody who had it in for them got close enough to stab him in the back.

Coulson took off his earmuffs and left the range without shooting a single round. Besides, there wasn't anyone around to help load the gun.

* * *

 

Phil glanced at the clock: 3:42 am. He'd only meant to look into reports of an invisible woman in New York City, but he'd been sidetracked by reports of an illusionist in Lincoln, Nebraska. Possibly the same person, come to think of it. Without verified data, it's hard to tell.  The black and red webpage seemed to cut in and out, with ads flashing in the sidebar. 

Caffeine. He needed some caffeine. He pushed the chair back and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. To his surprise, the lights were still on.  Skye was sitting with her feet propped up on another chair, eating half a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "What are you still doing up?" she asked.

"I thought that was my question."

"Someone's got to look after you with May gone."

"I was checking up on reports on a gifted.  Or maybe two.  Would you mind taking a look?"  

"Only if you promise to get some rest afterwards."  

"Yes, ma'am."  He nodded towards the other chair. "Mind if I sit down?"   _Use your foot, not hand,_   he reminds himself.  There'd been a few embarrassing incidents in the last month, coming down hard on a hand that wasn't there.  "Can we talk?"

"What is this, a surprise job review? Am I up for a raise?"

"I don't think any of us actually get paid." 

"Ten dollars an hour, maybe twenty if there's a gunfight involved."

"I'll have someone look into our finances." He leaned back. "But that wasn't what I meant."

"Is this about inventory? With Mack in charge of all the alien stuff, we haven't decided yet--"

"No, it's not inventory.  And it's not about missions, or the board, or any director stuff.  We've had a lot of stuff go down recently, and I just want to know--how are you doing?"

"I'm...I'm--" Skye stared into her ice cream, running the spoon around and around. 

He didn't say anything, but moved his right hand and began rolling up the cuffs.   Once the fabric was too thick to fold any further, he pushed it up his arm, until the cuff sat just above his elbow.   

She set down the empty container, looked at the stump for a moment, and looked away again. 

None of them looked at it. Fitz had examined it thoroughly when drawing up plans for a prosthetic, but words had dropped out of his sentences as he tried to explain, and he couldn't quite meet Coulson's eyes.  Fitz had to think of it as a project, first and foremost. Considering the person made it much harder.

"It doesn't hurt." Coulson took Skye's left hand in his right and set it on the rounded nub where his wrist had been.  "I think the transformation had already affected the blood vessels and nerves when Mack did it. I didn't feel anything.  Just jarring from the blow. "

"In the temple--with Raina--I didn't know what was happening.  It hadn't killed me earlier, but I knew whatever Cal wanted--" she swallowed. "It wasn't good.  Monsters.  The rock was so heavy...and then...when Quinn shot me it wasn't real, it was too fast."

"And Jiyang?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Skye squeezed his arm tightly.   

He edged his chair over. Reaching over with his good arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders.   

"She was my _mom_.  I was so happy to find her--to know she was alive--" she sniffled.

"I know." Automatically, he reached over with his left arm.  "I'm sorry--if it's too awkward-"

She shook her head. "I could use a good hug."

**Author's Note:**

> The finale hasn't completely set in yet, but in all of this, there is one bright spot. One thing that Coulson won't have to relearn how to do--he still has enough of his left arm to give a proper hug.


End file.
